


slow

by hongmunmu



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Infection, Red Lyrium
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 12:39:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4020103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hongmunmu/pseuds/hongmunmu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris with beginnings of the taint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	slow

Blessed are those who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.

Fenris repeated the words to himself like a mantra, mentally picturing the letters that went with the sounds. Since they had returned from the Deep Roads expedition he had felt somewhat off, like an illness with no discernible symptoms; consequently Hawke suggested he stay in for a day and practice his literacy with Sebastian. Three days of reading had passed and yet Hawke still had not thought him fit to join any missions.

His eyes drifted to his palm lying in his lap; experimentally he closed his fingers into a fist and then out into an open hand again. He repeated this process a few times before tracing his thumb over the lines of lyrium marking his palm and digits. In the past week or so he had noticed they had become vaguely discoloured; losing their raised texture and beginning to resemble something more along the lines of healing scabs. The once-white lines had started to blend a little more with his brown skin, taking on a pinkish sort of hue. He found it odd enough certainly, that the scars would only now begin to heal after all these years – but Fenris had long since had any innate sense of curiosity beaten out of him. He dwelled on it no longer.

***

“What?”

Sebastian blinked in confusion, looking at him with an odd expression. Briefly Fenris glanced around, wondering how much time had passed. He had noticed throughout the past few days that these periods of losing focus were becoming frequent.

“I said, how are you feeling?” Sebastian seemed impatient, like he’d asked the question several times.

How strange. He felt fine.

“I am well.”

Sebastian just sighed, exasperated, like he wasn’t satisfied with that answer. Fenris paid it no heed, absent-mindedly scratching the markings on his neck. They seemed to have developed an itchiness as of late. His mind began to drift, but was snapped back by Sebastian’s hand closing around his wrist and pulling it down to the table.

“I told you not to scratch. Look, they’re all red.” Sebastian indicated the markings on Fenris’ ungloved arms and shoulders. At Fenris’ look of confusion, Sebastian’s brows furrowed in concern. “Are they bothering you?”

Fenris muttered a reply, though put little attention into it and thus immediately forgot what he had said. Sebastian once again looked confused. Fenris felt much how Sebastian looked. This entire encounter was disorientating, and Fenris found himself becoming more frustrated with each passing minute.

“Enough,” he commanded, waving a hand dismissively as he closed the writing pad with the other. “I am tired of practicing.”

Sebastian looked like he wanted to say something else, but seemingly Fenris’ expression conveyed clear enough that his presence wasn’t wanted. He exhaled before standing and making his way towards the door.

“You know where I am if you need something,” he said, sounding discontent, before exiting the room and closing the door behind him. Fenris waited until he heard the front door shut before flopping backwards onto his bed. It sagged and creaked with the sudden weight.

He gazed up at the ceiling – or lack thereof – for a time, absently making half-conscious little rhythmic movements of his feet and fingers, borne out of the same sort of idleness that spurs actions such as twiddling one’s thumbs. And slowly, as though waking from a dream, he found he was no longer forming coherent thoughts. A melody had become more prominent, he realised. It was always there, like a filter over his general hearing – yet it was only now that he found he was _listening_. The song consisted of one main chorus-like tune, repeating over and over, looping into itself. Fenris accepted it mindlessly and without acknowledgement, for it was a part of him. It had been for a long time.

Lyrium sounded holy, he realised.

The movements and the song swept him up like a wave. It was a sudden shift as Fenris realised that his breathing had slowed and his body felt weightless. Strange images danced and burst in the corners of his eyes but as he sat up suddenly, trying to recall his train of thought – or gain in on how long he had been lying there – the hallucinations slipped his mind. If they were ever really there at all.

Fenris didn’t care enough to persist.

He had no interest in what he was doing previously. He simply wanted to lie and be and forget consciousness. And let senses be numb. 


End file.
